CASUAL glance at the listingspages of the posh papers tellsyou everything that you need toknow about the current state of British stand-up comedy.

With Russell Howard playing the10,000 seater enormo arenas of major cities,Jimmy Carr on an endless profithaemorrhaging tour of the big theatres andMichael McIntyre currently colonising the topof the DVD sales chart, you could be forgivenfor thinking that the Mickey Mainstreams aretaking over.But look more closely at the case of McIntyreand you will see the invidious dead hand of atwo factors: the power of homogenous,constantly on repeat TV panel shows and acouple of agencies who can now make or break stars at will.McIntyre, Howard, Carr, Frankie Boyle,Reginald D Hunter and Mark Watson arestanding testament to the power of Mock theWeek, QI and Never Mind the Buzzcocks to break comedians in the modern age.The problem is that the personae they adopt onthese shows becomes the one that the audiencewants and what is left is a terribly narrow setof comedic styles.

And there’s the rub, the comedic canongets narrowed to such an extreme that there are few genuinely challenging voices allowed entrance to this boysclub.

Also if you look at the profiles of the actscurrently at the top of British and Irish comedyone can see the power a couple of super agencies wield. Dara O’Briain, McIntyre, SeanLocke, Rich Hall, Phill Jupitus, Jonathon Rossand Alan Carr all come from Off the Kerb,which can often provide whole panels for thegame shows.Boyle and Carr are with Hannah Chamberswhile Avalon, with Harry Hill, Frank Skinner and Al Murray, are powerful, particularly onITV.With the comedy circuit contracting in Britaindue to savage licensing laws, the high cost of selling booze in expensive city centre properties and dwindling recession-hitaudiences, there aren’t many opportunities to break the big time from the clubs. Acts heretailor their sets in the hope of getting noticedfor TV and then the vicious circle is closed.The homogenous line of faux angry men and banal observationalists continues.Boyle’s just such a reductive case in point. Theoften savage, let’s see how far we can go stylewhich fits the short form of the panel gameshas become elongated for the live environment.His shtick is unimaginably weak: lots of puerile see as far as you can push it scatterguncynicism where no-one or nothing is worth atinker’s frig. Two hours in Boyle’s company isa spirit sapping experience which leaves youwondering if there is anything positive to sayin his world.And while Carr and Boyle may be theapotheosis of the lewd Daily Mail baitingcomedic class then McIntyre follows in a lineof banal ‘You ever noticed...’ merchants whocan also peddle a fine line of crap Britishnostalgia.Peter Kay, who has just sold a quizillion ticketsin two minutes for a huge tour of the arenas of Britain in 2011, is the man to blame for thisstrand of modern British comedic mush.While Phoenix Nights was genuinely funny inits first series, Kay couldn’t help but milk it drywith the painful Max and Paddy TV series andthe more painfully dreadful X Factor skit lastChristmas. He even coined it in with a tour which thumbed it nose at the audience by beingcalled ‘Mum Wants a Bunglow Tour.’His recent chat show appearances have shown just how threadbare his act has become, talkingabout Matey bubble bath on the Jonathon Ross

‘scattergun cynicism &banal observationalism

British stand-upcomedy is dyingunder the weight of narrow blokeishnessand the dead handof TV panel gamesby

PADDY HOEY

have i gotnever mindthe qi-cocksfor you?

comedy